Gift of Rebellion
by ExoticDarkOne
Summary: She gives me gifts as if they were flowers. Even if I could count the little ones that surround me, I know I could not return them. Especially the gift of rebellion. And it's all because of a little human with a krogan's heart.
1. chapter 1

I know there are mercs coming for me, so when the woman in armor steps through the door and scans the room, I half expected her to draw her weapon. She and the two males flanking her, a drell and a turian, would have been more than enough to handle me. But when her eyes find me, they widen in shock. Absently I note how pretty their green color is.

She carefully makes her way to stand in front of me, eyes taking me in.

"Patriarch?" She asks cautiously.

I can't help it; her caution makes me preen. It's been some time since I was considered a threat. It doesn't swell as it would have in my youth, or even a thousand years ago, for I realize I know exactly why she's here.

"You're here to babysit dear, old Patriarch, aren't you?"

Her eyes drop with shame for a moment, and I cut her off before she can even work up a response.

"I'm tired, human. You ever stop to think that maybe it's just my time to go? That maybe this is what I want?"

Now her eyes flash at me in righteous fury and she steps into my space, flat teeth grit and bared. This is usually the part where the human gets their body language wrong. That chin will come up. But what is defiance in humans is supplication in krogans.

She does not lift her chin.

She dips it low and glares at me from under her lashes, a good substitute for a plate brow, and I see a little scar, there between those flashing green eyes. I wonder if she actually would headbutt me. I consider pushing her further to find out. But she speaks first.

"Why the hell are you here sand-born? How long have you been here?"

Sand-born. It is a name I have not heard in ages upon ages. The traditional term for offworld krogan, not used for millennia, not since before the last nuclear winter. It is a name for those who hold the highest respects among clans. I have not been called such in generations.

Her eyes slide away from me and something akin to a _very_ passable growl crawls up her throat.

"I'm gonna kill that bitch." She hisses, turning as if to actually force her way back upstairs and into Aria's face on my behalf. Some tiny bit of hope flutters in my chest. Could she understand?

"Don't worry yourself, human. I am tired of being a leashed pet. Let these mercenaries kill me. It will be my final rebellion."

Three words followed, so quiet, so powerful when uttered that I feel a long buried part of myself rear its head.

"They are unworthy."

For a long moment, we debated silently, and her turian twitched. She partially raises her hand and he relaxes. I can appreciate a well honed team, and for that I relax and lift my chin. She mirrors me and I watch in approval as her team relaxes as well.

"Care to cause some trouble, pup?" I ask. The grin that breaks across her face is as fierce and sly as my words.

I watch in satisfaction as my new, albeit temporary, krantt go forward to kill in my name. My blood hums in my veins, and like the adrenaline high humans speak of, I find myself itching to be krogan once more.

 **XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

It isn't much later they return, flushed and preening with victory, laden with armfuls of food. I wonder about the food, and she grins wickedly before explaining, "A krogan celebration for a krogan victory!"

My heart soars. We eat and drink loud and boisterously, running off other patrons downstairs as me and the human grabbed hold of each other to wrestle. Her krantt, Garrus and Thane, joined in, taking cues from the little woman and putting just as much gusto into their mock fights as she did.

We celebrate well into the small hours of the morning, and and it's the happiest I've been in centuries. Eventually, we settle down, and prepare a goodbye. Thane stood next to the door, wryly supporting a very large and _very_ drunk Garrus, as the human woman who changed my pitiful life here on Omega stood before me, a small box in her hands.

"This is the last gift I have sand-born. I wish I could offer more at this time, but we didn't come prepared. Had I known you were here-"

I wave her off. "Hush, pup. You have given me more in one night than many have in their entire lifetimes."

She smiles softly at me and nods before explaining, "We will be back. I don't know how long it'll be, but we'll definitely do this again. Until then I hope this helps you remember that."

I nod and take the box from her, wondering at the contents. A groan from the door makes her look over her shoulder and laugh.

"We have to get him in the bunk. I'll be back."

And in her glittering eyes I saw promise, and I believed. They turn to leave, and after the door closes behind them, I stare at the little box in silence. I feel the edges, find the flaps, and pull up the lid. I tuck my fingers inside and feel...fabric?

I pull the expanse of textile and I'm floored by what lies in my hand.

Bold and blocky reds, oranges, and yellows snap at me, interspersed with a royal blue the color of Kalros' scales in the Tuchanka sun. The colors demand my attention as much as any vista from my homeworld. A shawl for my hump. I finger my own threadbare shawl, the blues and purples swirl together in asari patterns.

It would be suicide to wear my new gift in front of Aria. She'd know she was losing her grip on my leash. But I smile at the glimpse of Tuchanka in my hand. I will keep it, this gift of rebellion, until the human returned. No, until my krantt returned. And when she did, I vow to leave with her. Aria can screw a varren for all I care. But not now. It is unwise to act alone. I will wait for my time.

Shepard. A name I will remember. The name of my krantt.

I finger the shawl fondly before tucking it back inside the box and making my way to my room to get some sleep. I was sure to sleep well with this gift of rebellion under my pillow.


	2. Chapter 2

It's nearly three weeks later before I see her again. She strides through the door with more confidence than Aria, arms once again laden with food. Thane is at her side, but in Garrus' place a krogan towers over her head. I size him up as I step towards Shepard.

"My krantt returns! But what is all this for?" I peek inside a bag as she and Thane make their way to a table. It's soon spread with numerous foods, none of which were delicate asari dishes. My heart squeezes to think of how much Shepard has seen in her one visit. She knows as well as I do that I am malnourished, and that asari food doesn't have what I need to be healthy again.

As with last time, Thane has his own foods, and I find myself approving of his reserve. It is a strong warrior that doesn't need to show out in front of others.

Shepard looks over her shoulder and grins. "We celebrate!"

She seems to be waiting, so I bite the bait. "What are we celebrating, pup?"

Those glittering eyes fill with mischief as she leans in to whisper in my ear, "The leader of Clan Urdnot has given permission for you to return to Tuchanka, sand-born."

I freeze as her words sink in, and my eyes are wide as they meet hers. She nods slightly, and a grin of my own spreads across my face. I throw my head back and laugh in raucous, unabashed joy.

We gather at the table and tuck into food and drink, and she introduces me to Grunt, and they spend the better part of two hours regaling me with the tale of his Rite of Passage, interspersed with detailed memories shared by Thane. He laughs as he admits the celebrations lasted a week. And she _has_ head-butted krogan before.

We continue well into the night, and dawn is breaching the sky when Shepard puts a hand to her ear, listening to someone on her implant.

"Alright people," her voice is low as she stands, "this is our opening. Patriarch, are you ready?"

I rumble my approval, but I tell her, "I am not as fast as I was a millennia ago, pup. I will need your assistance."

She nods. "It's why I brought Grunt. It won't be exactly dignified, but if it goes south he can carry you. Thane will scout ahead before circling back to cover our backs. Until then, we're going to take it nice and easy. You and your new friends are going out for a quiet walk after a night of drinking. You got it?"

I nod my understanding and we stand. She offers her arm and I snort at the absurdity of her escorting me safely across the floor. Though her inner strength is undeniable. Any time the ryncol hit me and I swayed, she braced her feet and supported my bulk until the feeling passed.

In this manner we slipped from Afterlife and down the docks. Omega never truly slept, but streets were mostly deserted this early. I half expected Aria to come pounding after us, but thankfully the walk to Shepard's ship was uneventful.

I marvel at the elegance of the Normandy. I had watched the salarians as they first landed on Tuchanka and I had watched as the first krogan left for the stars. To think back to those early ships and compare them to this one was almost a shame. For a moment, I realize how small I am in this universe. Probably the last soul in existence that could make the comparison.

I sigh sadly, and Shepard squeezes my hand. When I tilt my head to peer down at her, she is looking up at me sadly. She probably thinks I'm sad to leave Omega - after all, I had made friends over the centuries - but for this moment I imagine that she knows what I'm thinking and understands my grief.

She leads me into the airlock.

In my bunk that night, graciously shared by Samara, I open the small bundle I managed to sneak off Omega. I reach for the little box and lift the lid. I finger the fabric inside reverently before tugging off the threadbare shawl in asari purples and wrapping the gift of rebellion around my hump.

The difference is immediate. The cloth is thick and warm, and smells faintly of sun bleached sand. It makes me smile.

 **XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

Shepard's ship and crew are impressive. Individual though they are, I watch with fascination as they set aside their differences to become a single being in combat, like pieces of a weapon; hilt, blade, pommel, they are useless apart but together they form a dangerous thing.

As deeply rooted in racism as Cerberus is, I am pleasantly surprised to find most of the crew agreeable and well behaved, even in the face of opposing views. From my quiet gatherings, I have learned that this manner of cohabitation is Shepard's influence entirely. It's a hard point to argue, watching Garrus tickle Shepard until she squealed in mirth and tears rolled down her face; her amusing nights walking little Tali to her bunk after a night of drinks; the serene companionship between her and Thane as they silently broke down and cleaned their rifles, thighs pressed together.

And if a crewman was stubborn and refused to see wisdom...well, they held their tongues anyway. For as kind as Shepard is, she holds an iron fist. Aggression is dealt with harshly, and petty arguments ended swiftly with the logic and eloquence of a skilled diplomat. Truly stubborn men and women earned a headbutt strong enough to put them in the floor.

So imagine my unease when the dark skinned human male refuses to release his ill intents towards Thane. And not even because he is drell, but because he is an _assassin_. I admit, I prefer a more direct approach to combat, but I am krogan. The quarrel of money makes no sense to me. The man uses his skills to survive, to provide. Where is the righteousness in a quarrel of such when even Jacob has done the same? When his precious Commander has done the same, admitted it?

I am in the mess hall when the simmering tension boils over. Thane had entered to make himself a mug of tea and sat across from me at my request. We speak quietly. I like his low tone. Sometimes the human voices raised their pitch, and it stung my ears, but never Thane.

We are having an especially intriguing conversation about krogan religion; apparently the shaman of Clan Urdnot had piqued his curiosity, and I am happy to answer his eager questions and debates with my own. Absently I think about Shepard and try to guess what she would get out of the conversation. Her mind always brought a new topic, or a different perspective to one we might have been stuck on.

It's a surprise to me when something bumps into Thane with enough force to knock the mug from his hands. Tea spills across the table, and before I even know what's about, Thane emits a dark snarl, snatching the offender faster than I can see. For him to have acted so quickly, I know it has to be Jacob.

Thane's hands are a blur as he jabs ribs, grabs and twists a wrist, and slams his opponent's face down on the table before me, the free hand gripping the back of Jacob's neck. I watch with disinterest as shock crosses Jacob's face. He should not be so surprised.

With one hand twisting Jacob's arm roughly behind his back and the other holding his neck a hairs width from enough pressure to snap it, Thane has the fool thoroughly trussed.

The mess hall falls silent, save for an ominous set of footsteps making their way across the floor. The slow and deliberate steps send a shiver down my spine, and the dark tone of voice freezes my blood. It has been a long time since I was afraid of a person.

"What exactly is going on here?"

Thane releases Jacob, bares his wrists. "My apologies siha. I lost my temper."

Shepard tilts her head to one side, and Thane bows his head and steps away.

"The hell do you think you're doing Jacob?"

"With all due respect Commander, he grabbed me."

"Your respect can kiss my ass Jacob. Did you really think you could keep pulling his tail and he'd never bare his fangs? Or did you honestly think you could get away with your bullshit just because you're human? I've been watching you, and I know _exactly_ what goes on when you think I'm not looking."

"I haven't done anything."

"Oh, really? That's funny, because in the whole time Thane has been a member of this crew I've never known him to spill a single drop of tea. Cut the shit. What's your problem?"

Jacob grits his teeth before muttering, "No problem, Commander."

Shepard is quiet for several long moments, and no one moves. I don't even think nearly half the crew is even breathing.

"Very well, since this can't be resolved in a civilised fashion, well be doing this the hard way. Both of you meet me in the cargo hold in five minutes. Garrus, on me."

Garrus is out of his seat and at her side in an instant, and the room watches until the elevator doors shut. Jacob slinks out of sight and I watch as the tension drains from Thane's body.

I don't let the silence hold. "Here, I'll help you clean the tea up. Wouldn't do to be late with a battlemaster in a mood like that."

I wave off his apology and we wipe the table down quickly. The mess is a flurry of activity, with people cramming their way into the elevator. I shake my head. The nosiness of other species is something I will never understand, though in this instance, I can appreciate the curiosity. I ride down with Thane, and I have an inkling of what is about to happen.

Sure enough, when the doors slide open, I can see Shepard and Garrus dragging mats from a rarely used closet and laying them out on the floor. People are gathering in a loose circle around the area.

I watch Shepard's eyes scan the faces around her.

"Get up here both of you."

Thane leaves my side to weave through the crowd and I see a sullen Jacob step up on the other side.

"Alright, since the problem can't be resolved kindly, you two are going to duke it right out of your system. Rules are simple; no deaths or major injuries, hands only. You go until one person is unconscious. EDI is going to act as referee, and Garrus is going to be acting on her behalf. All that means is he's going to break it up if it's clear there is an injury. Any questions?"

"This is ridiculous, Commander, I don't have to fight like this." Jacob whines.

"Well, this is my last peaceful option. If you refuse to do this, then I have no choice but to put you off at the next planet we come across. And it will have to be you, since you're the instigator."

Jacob frowns. "We've been mining resources for days, we're so far out in the system none of these planet's are even colonized."

Shepard smiles as sweetly as the shine on a double edged blade, showing all her teeth in that one motion. Her message can be no clearer. Jacob huffs and steps into the makeshift ring; he settles into a fighting stance. Thane does the same.

Thane dominates the floor, clearly taking advantage of the rules of engagement to exact brutally precise revenge for all of Jacob's shoving, tripping, and attempts to sabotage Thane's guns by swapping gun oil for glue. Grunt had picked it up instead, and had been inconsolable for nearly a week when he found the shotgun Shepard had given him ruined. Upon her return from her ground mission, Shepard had been less than pleased at her pup's state.

I hear a rib crack, but it was apparently too soft for humans to hear. Garrus did step up and shove between the two fighters, however. Either he also heard the bone snap, or EDI informed him of the injury.

With Jacob being carted off to the med bay, the people milling about broke out into chatter. Until Joker came over the comm.

"Hey Commander, why don't you go a round with Thane?"

Shepard straightens and cocks her head to one side. "Are you... _implying_ something, Joker?"

"Not like that," Joker backtracks to a background of giggles, "I just thought it'd be a shame to cram those mats back into the closet. Besides, I haven't seen you spar with anyone since you beat the hell outta Wrex that day."

Shepard snorts at the memory. "I didn't start that; you know ryncol was involved."

Before Joker could reply, I speak up, "Give us an ammanasse, pup. He is your krantenal, is he not?"

It was a tease that did not disappoint. Shepard choked and whirled around to me, eyes wide. Thane steps up and her face flames, making me chuckle deep in my chest.

"What does 'krantenal' mean? My translator didn't pick it up."

Shepard gives him a cheeky smile. "Maybe I'll tell you one day. What do you say, Thane? Got one more in you?"

More giggles, but Thane smiles.

 **XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

 **Since their are literally like five words in krogan on the wiki, I am making most of these words and culture bits up.**


	3. Chapter 3

**S** **o, this particular story popped up because as a major krogan lover, I was pissed the fuck off at Patriarch's treatment. I'd have killed Aria in a heartbeat if I could have. But I came up with something that I liked much better. Also, I'm still typing this on a seven inch tablet. It is slow going, so patience is greatly appreciated. As for my other stories, I plan on deleting a few incomplete ones altogether, and will finish the rest as I'm able. it's just a matter of having gone so long that I've passed into different phases - hello Skyrim, you beautiful bastard - and have subsequently lost momentum in the old stories.**

 **Enjo** **y!**

 **XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

It takes about a week and a half to make it to Tuchanka. I'm not in a hurry, and Shepard likes top of the line equipment, and that requires resources. It is time consuming, but necessary. Even better is the fact that Jacob has calmed down since the fight.

The fact that Thane now has permission to physically retaliate against the slightest infraction - " _seriously, Thane, he so much as gives you a stink eye you nail his ass to the wall_ " - might have something to do with that though.

I'm glad I've managed to put on some weight. It wouldn't do to appear weak before the clan chief. Shepard had anticipated this and purchased surplus food stores before taking me from Omega. Grunt was also pleased with the extra food, though Shepard still made him eat with 'etiquette' at the table. I wonder what she's planning, giving him these lessons.

Samara is a wonderful new friend. She is a calm soul amongst the energy of the young species around us, and I enjoy spending time sitting with her in meditation. I am not a biotic, but the vibrations from her exercises are soothing against my plates. Even Thane, slowed by sickness and tempered by age, got frisky once in a while, usually chasing Shepard in one game or another.

Joker is an amusing character, and it's a surprise to find his banter with EDI is...not as bad as I had thought. I'm not sure I know exactly what I was expecting with these two, but what I found was not it.

I did, however, abide Shepard's rule for Joker at all times. No one touches the pilot, no matter how much of an ass he's being. This is one unspoken rule that is strictly enforced. She has a peculiar soft spot for the pilot, and she's incredibly protective of him.

It is still massively satisfying to watch her gently take an ear between thumb and forefinger. He stills and clamps his jaw shut immediately. I've been told anything otherwise on his part results in the piece of cartilage being twisted painfully. Likewise, he gets to pinch her if she's the one being an ass. I am reminded of siblings, and perhaps they've adopted each other in that manner, when they had few, if any, others to fill the role.

One day Shepard even cornered me in the Starboard Observation, and she and EDI had me pinned for hours asking questions about the krogan ways in my youth. They even spent a good bit of time cross referencing my language -which is no longer used - with known runes from krogan ruins. It's in this manner I come to understand how Shepard knows so much about krogan.

Apparently, she's "quite the anthropologist, specializing in ancient krogan" - which earned Thane a beautiful smile - and that she's "not a specialist in anything, that's called an obsession" which earned Garrus a cuff in the cowl.

She slips in next to me now as I make my way to the shuttle that will take me down to my homeland. My hearts are pounding in my chest. I'm nervous, even though I know I'll never have to return to Omega; if I am outcast here, I will always have a place on the Normandy.

She squeezes my hand for attention just before I climb inside. I tilt my head to look at her curiously.

She bites her bottom lip before saying, "I just want you to know Tuchanka is much different than when you were here last telnaan. Please do not be disappointed."

Telnaan. A respectful term for a warrior that no longer actively hunts but could still rip your throat out, similar to elder. I note it's not a word that was discussed a few days ago. But her worry is in the right place.

"I know, pup. But as different as it will be, I will enjoy having sand under my feet once more. Don't fret too much; I am krogan, I will adapt."

She smiles, and let's me slide into the shuttle first. After a few last orders over her comm, she follows me in with Thane on her heels. Garrus climbs in after, and I glace up in surprise as the shuttle dips dangerously. Grunt squeezes in last, and suddenly I feel claustrophobic. Grunt is steadily growing, and Garrus is one of the largest turians I've encountered in my years; he is both taller and thicker than an average male of his species.

It is a comical sight - a short human female surrounded by nearly a half dozen beings that could break bones just by stepping on her. Thane, while slender, still towers over her. I chuckle quietly and she peeks at me curiously before dropping her eyes back to her omnitool. I watch as she shifts her weight to the opposite side, just enough to gently press her hip to Thane's.

I hear his answering rumble, though I doubt Garrus, or even Grunt, did as well. Grunt was still far too young to hear a frequency that low. I watch them quietly for a moment. It is rare to find a pair so attuned to each other. I'm glad for them.

Shepard feels me looking and glances up. I lift my chin in Grunt's direction in a silent question. She grins impishly.

"Someone still has breeding requests to fill. I promised Wrex to bring him by once in a while to do that. We'll be here for a week at least."

I nod, then startle when the shuttle shudders to a stop. I had not realized the passage of time. Now I am nervous once more. Shepard squeezes through to stand in front of me.

"It's going to be fine. Wrex is an old friend and has given his word you won't be attacked." She smooths my shawl over my hump. "He's probably not going to ask that you partake a Rite, but he will ask what you can do that will aid the growth of the clan. Did I tell you he has his scientist studying crop genetics? Scandalous."

I snort and just like that, my nervousness lessened. I am glad to know I have my krantt if the clan turns me away. In a show of gratitude, I place my chin on top of her head for a few brief moments before turning to step out of the shuttle.

As we walk through the halls of what had once been a great structure, I understand what she meant by don't be disappointed. Debris litters the floors, cracks dominate the walls, and even the greatest clan Tuchanka can boast is few in number and starving at the edge of the wilds. I am not disappointed.

I am sad, and so very lonely.

I stand here and can compare these ruins to the greatness that they used to be. They may rebuild their empire, but these krogan will never regain what was lost. I hope I can ease some of this burden from them.

Heads turn as we wind through the camp to the dias Urdnot Wrex uses to hold his diplomacies. Soon, even Wrex himself notices our presence and stands when he lays eyes on us.

It isn't long before we are before him, and he gazes at me with incredulity.

"I admit, Shepard, when you said ancient I thought you were exaggerating."

His eyes rove over me once again. Then he did something astonishing. He slid the tip of his first finger to lay on the second knuckle of his other finger, and placed the hand over his chest.

"Belnaa est hirn, telnaan."

It is an ancient greeting between warriors, and a warm welcome from a chief to an honored guest. Dumbfounded, I return the gesture.

At my face, he explains, "My mother's mother passed her knowledge to me. I don't have much, but I can offer you the greeting you deserve. Do you wish to join the ranks of clan Urdnot, telnaan?"

"I do."

"Are you able to contribute to the clan, telnaan?"

"I am. I am far too old to be out with the scouts, but I have what most do not. I have the history of the krogan people. History that begins before the nuclear winter. I can return culture to Tuchanka by passing down the oldest of songs, by training artisans, and teaching the old ceremonies of the ancient warriors."

"That is a generous gift, telnaan. No doubt we could flourish with our culture restored. Speak to the shaman. He will assign you a task. It doesn't happen often, but in this case you may send your krantt to complete the task in your name. You have Shepard to thank for asking ahead of time."

I nod. It's a short trip up to the shaman to receive my task. It's simple, considering it doesn't hold a candle to Grunt's Rite of Passage. Since I offer history, I am to take a trip out to the nearest ruin and retrieve something historic. I delegate the task to my krantt, and settle in as I watch Shepard's back disappear into a Tomkah.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Four days later - they had to wait out a dust storm - my krantt return to the camp. Krogan begin to unload their find. I am surprised at just how much they found, and at the size. I thought she'd return with a pot or something, but not my krantt.

I join the crowd gathering and elbow my way to the front. A couple of whelps scramble when they realize it's me. I had an interesting few days to introduce myself to the clan; I might be old, but I'm not dead yet.

Shepard holds a slab of clay in her hand, maybe a foot square, and I see runes etched into the surface. She's barking orders and directing traffic, offering snarls to those getting in the way. Thane and Garrus are assisting unloading the last few items from the Tomkah.

"This is more than I was expecting, pup."

She flashes a grin my way. "Nothing but the best."

I chuckle and peek at the runic slate in her hand. Faded, but I can still make out a few words. I feel eyes on me and drag my eyes up to meet Shepard's. There's a wrinkle in her forehead, and she's frowning slightly. She is studying my more closely than she ever has, and it makes me uneasy.

"You know, you look...familiar."

Garrus snorts behind her. "He's only been living on the ship with us for the last two weeks, Shepard."

She ignores him in favor of lightly tracing a scar on my crest. It's only a moment that Thane notices her focus, and slips up to stand next to her. Before he can speak, she freezes, and her eyes grow large.

Hands shaking, she swallows and asks, "If I were to ask you where to find the deepest lake on Tuchanka...?"

The invocation is ancient even by my standards, and I know now what realization has dawned upon her. I could hide my knowledge, hide from the implications that would surely follow, but I am krogan. I will not hide. There is no need. I complete the invocation.

"I would tell you she dwells in the womb of the sands."

"Oh my god. Oh my god."

Her hands come up to cover her mouth, and I watch as her pulse quickens.

"You're... _you're Aralakh_."


	4. Chapter 4

**This may be the last chapter in this story. It was meant to be short and sweet anyway. But, there will be a Shrios fic that will have Patriarch - now Aralakh - and I'm toying with the idea of a collection of minis detailing his new** **adventures** **on** **Tuchanka. As always, enjoy!**

 **XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

My name on her lips makes a strange twist in my heart. She stares up at me, eyes wide with astonishment. Then she starts twitching, which becomes shaking, and her breath comes faster. She grabs Thane with her free hand and shakes him too.

"Do you have any idea what this means? You...you've got to be over six _thousand_ years old! You've been alive longer than human civilization! The first krogan warrior ever!"

Thane extracts himself from her grip, but hovers, and even Garrus steps closer to her. In all fairness, it did seem like she'd faint. Her face is red, her breath as coming in short pants, and as of now she can no longer articulate words.

" _Breathe_ , pup. You give me too much credit. I have not been worthy of that name since before I built Omega."

Apparently, Omega's origins were unknown to her. She chokes again and makes a frustrated squeal. I realize I have to calm her down before she starts raising the pitch of her voice. That would certainly cause a headache.

"What name do you speak of?" I glace over my shoulder. Wrex and the shaman have joined us to appraise the relics. His arrival is a signal to Shepard, as if trying to find someone to share in her excitement.

"Wrex, he's _Aralakh_."

Her words have the desired effect on these two. Their eyes snap to me and zero in with the focus of a half-starved varren.

"Aralakh?" Wrex whispers quietly as the shaman steps forward to study me more closely.

"He is the correct size for such a claim, and the crest is correct as well. But all the stories say Aralakh fell beneath the sands, and that's why they're orange to this day. Have you anything that could assist your claim?"

That old, long buried part of me wants to claw to the surface at the implication that Shepard lies. Though I can't really blame their skeptical attitudes on being rude. The claim is audacious. I speak before Shepard gets it into her head to prove my identity by offering to partake in a suicidal Rite or something.

"Anything old enough to prove my name is buried in the bones of the civilization that came before. There is no way to reclaim it. I did not come here to rest on laurels millennia old anyway. I merely wish to live my twilight years as a krogan should."

Shepard joins the conversation, and I watch her frown at my words. I hope they stick; I am unworthy of that... that... _reverence_ in her eyes.

"You have spent far too long in the company of asari, telnaan." She chides quietly. She turns to the shaman. "I have found something that can prove he is Aralakh. Barring that, it completes the task assigned to him. I would recite it for you."

My hearts skip a beat. Could she really have something of that significance? What could possibly prove my name now?

The shaman gestures, and Shepard's voice begins her recital, from the runic slate that survived her minor stroke.

"It is a letter, addressed to Aralakh. When I finish, I have a picture on my omnitool that I will show you that will also compound the claim.

" _My dearest Aralakh, it has been many years since you left for the stars. I hope they treat you well. You always were one for wandering. But you always came back to me. I wish you'd return to me now. War stirs on the horizon, and these winds of change bode ill. I feel it deep in my hearts that this will be the beginning of the end for krogan everywhere. As much as you'd have protested, I have secured permission from the tanaan to record your legacy - the real legacy - in the annals. Your story is not one that should be forgotten. Anak rul dost, my krantenal."_

Emotion wells inside me, and I find myself looking into Shepard's green eyes, so beight and lively, yet so very old and knowing. And painfully familiar.

I suck in a ragged breath.

"Her name was Deyna. She was a priestess at the Temple of Kalros." I tell her, voice just above a whisper.

Shepard clicks her omnitool and a picture of a glazed mosaic hovers above her wrist. It's me, standing at the side of a priestess and holding her hand as she sat for the picture. It was one of the few physical contacts we were allowed. Her green eyes are distinctive even after all these years.

I sigh deeply.

I am in turmoil as the shaman examines the mosaic. He turns and gives Wrex a nod, before wandering over to the crates waiting to be placed.

"Welcome to Clan Urdnot, Aralakh. We will prepare a celebration."

He claps me on my shoulder, and gives me a long knowing look. Then he leaves me with my krantt.

Shepard slips closer, and I take comfort in her presence. I place my chin on her head, and close my eyes to savor the warmth of her presence. She clicks her teeth a few times, and the old familiar gesture eases my burden a bit.

With one last sigh, I straighten.

"Are you ready? There's a lot to get ready, if Wrex is throwing a party."

I nod, and she smiles softly.

I miss Deyna.

 **XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

As it turns out, most of the clan is already assigned tasks for preparation, which left me with time to help Shepard with the 'little' project she brought back from the ruins; a large brick oven used for firing pottery. How she knew I could do such is beyond me.

It takes a few hours to build, even with the added help of the pair of whelps she and Garrus tackled. They were even more revered than me; a pair of twins.

Varnek and Ranntak are an energetic and curious pair, pestering not only me, but Shepard, Garrus, and Thane with questions. I couldnt follow Ranntak's and Garrus' conversation at all; it involved a complicated series of hypothetical algorithms and the mysterious effect of dark matter on ship drive cores and how to counteract it.

Shepard and Thane exchange a dry look as well, so at least I'm not alone in my stupor. Varnek pokes Shepard in the ribs to get her attention, and she turns to answer his rapid succession questions as they lay brick in place.

Even though the twins stood a half head taller than her, I know these pups are barely in their teen years. Shepard obviously enjoys them, and answers all questions patiently and makes corrections gently.

The look in her eyes when she gazes at them is not lost to me. If any would know a mother's loss, a krogan would.

Once the oven is complete, I set the boys down and show them how to work the clay. Once they are occupied, I gesture to my krannt and they form up around me.

I pose my request to Shepard and Thane. After a brief glance, they smile.

 **XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

"Tonight we celebrate the arrival of a new clan member! He brings history and culture from the time before the nuclear winter! Welcome, Urdnot Aralakh!"

Wrex's voice booms over the camp, where more than a few clans have gathered at Wrex's invitation to join the celebrations. The female clan even showed up, letting knee high pups scramble and tumble with the warriors under the sharp eyes of Ute.

Grunt has even joined the party, quietly tending a young female that he is particularly fond of. Shepard told me in a low voice that she was his first breeding request, and he hers, and they've managed to make an attachment. Indeed, he's taken these last three days of this visit to sequester with her alone. I ponder the significance of this, and whether my gift to the clan tonight might bear fruit after all.

After a murmuring circle around the camp, Wrex motions at me with an arm. I make a path to him, Shepard and Thane in my shadow. Garrus had been elbow deep in a Tomkah not long ago, so I'm not sure if he's going to see the show. I'm fairly certain EDI is recording the events in any case.

I prepare myself for my speech. I have not seen numbers like this in a while. But when the nerves get me and my words stick in my throat, Shepard clicks her teeth and I summon the strength to get it done. Wrex makes it look easy.

"Before the nuclear winter, before the genophage, the need for breeding requests was not so stringent."

It was not necessary at all, actually. Krogan generally maintained polygamy for genetic diversity, but it wasn't uncommon for a pair to settle down for the long run. But these krogan will not understand that, so I keep it simple.

"You know of the krantt, those that would kill for you. Those that would die for you. They bring glory in your name."

I see heads nodding, and almost every eye is on me. I don't feel threatened. I feel respect from them. Not quite deference, but a willingness to hear of the old ways.

"Part of what has been lost because of the genophage is the krantenal. Krantt is those that would die for you. Krantenal is the one that would live for you. A part of you that guards your very soul. The krantenal is a sacred position to a warrior, someone that can be trusted explicitly at your throat. The bond of krantenal is a permanent place. My krantt includes Urdnot Alice, and she has a krantenal. They have agreed to perform an ammanasse this evening. Ammanasse is the Dance of Lovers, and is performed by a krantenal pair to prove how well they are bonded. Watch, and see what it is to know the other half of your soul."

I move out of the way, and settle in as Shepard and Thane square off to one another. Thane is in his usual garb, but Shepard has changed into a loose tunic and slim pants that stop just short of her ankles. Her feet are bare as well. Armor isn't allowed in the female party, and as Shepard is an accepted part of the female clan, she abides the rules.

 _"Besides, have you tried wrangling pups in armor?"_ she had said, lips quirking at my mention of her change in attire.

Movement explodes in front of me, and I am jerked from my musings. Shepard has opened with an almost unseen rush in close to Thane, and volleys several jabs in succession before a twitch from Thane sends her leaning back to avoid his blow.

They break away, circle, and close again. There is a flurry of movement, both jabbing, dodging, and blocking with hands and feet alike. At times they are close enough to share the same breath and yet they flow like a river.

Thane opens his stance a little too wide and Shepard spins on the ball of her foot - her back facing him for a half a second - before she drops to the ground, sliding between his feet with her legs spread in a straight line flat on the ground. A twist of the ankle still under Thane sends him down to a knee.

Well, that was new. I'd heard about human flexibility, but seeing it in action was impressive.

Apparently the move was new to Thane too, because he hums in alarm. Shepard uses the surprise to hop back to her feet, and Thane is back up in the same breath as well.

I hear impressed murmurs from the gathering as they close again. Krogan can appreciate a good warrior, and these two are great ones.

I almost miss the point where Thane gains control. Had I blinked I would have. As Shepard is swinging a punch towards his head, he shoots both hands out, crossed to form an X. He clamps them around Shepard's wrist and _pulls_ , keeping her momentum going and throwing off her balance. There is a twist, and a slide of his feet has him behind her with her arm twisted up behind her back.

He knows better than to stop there, however. A quick jerk of his foot sweeps hers from beneath her and she pitches forward, Thane following while still holding onto her arm. A knee between her shoulders and a hand on the back of her head pin her to the ground, and she nods, submitting.

Cheers go up as Thane helps her to her feet. I watch with quiet approval as Thane closes the distance and murmurs quietly to Shepard.

It isnt long before she flashes him an inviting smile and they make their way from the platform. The end of the ammanasse signals the state of the celebration.

I find a spot next to Wrex to enjoy the festivities. Shepard and Thane are suspiciously missing for a brief interlude, and upon their return Shepard's skin is dusted with red splotches and not just from being flushed. Whatever they did, they managed to clean the smell from them. Probably a good idea; I can see Shepard's face if a pup were to start asking certain questions.

Shepard spends a good bit of her time playing nanny, chasing knee high pups or holding the younger ones to give their mothers a rest. I even saw a headbutting lesson at one point. Thane was always there at her back, head swiveling and wary eyes watching for threats. Ute allowed him to do so because he had no interest in annoying her females. Grunt was allowed as well, and would talk with Thane as Shepard and the young female from earlier spoke quietly with heads pressed together, sleepy pups bouncing on knees.

Then the females corralled the young ones back to their own camp, and Shepard joined Wrex and I, and the ryncol started flowing and I'm not sure if that bout of Bomb the Pyjack between Shepard and Wrex was real or not.

 **XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

Shepard spent the second to last day of her visit unpacking my belongings. I tried to help, but I had a hangover the size of a thresher maw. I eye Shepard distastefully; there's no way she should be that cheerful - she drank more ryncol than I did.

I sit outside as she puts away the extra food stores, stacks books and datapads on a shelf, and lines the surfaces of my new home with the odds and ends she had found for me on her ground missions. A few guns, bits of colored stone, a magnet the size of my fist, and the runic slate from Deyna, along with a hologram projector of the picture of the mosaic depicting us togther.

Once finished, she joins me at the small table on the porch, and we watch the sun beat down on the camp. There were many a groan wafting up on the breeze.

I look about my new home. It is small, with only a greeting room and a divided bedroom, but it is enough and I like it. It is situated in a cliff face just above the camp, and I watch as my new clan goes about their day. There are similar houses dotting the cliff, but only two more are occupied at this moment; one belongs to Wrex, the other to Shepard.

Those occupied are well maintained while the owners are out, and there is a guard rotation at all times, even for the empty houses.

"What are your plans now?" Shepard asks, her eyes closed as she turned her face to the sun, soaking in the warmth.

"I will teach. Ute has agreed to let me come to the clan when I am ready and select three apprentices to learn the few trades I still have. I will pass on my knowledge, and as they learn they will take on their own apprentices. In this way, the clan will grow."

Her eyes open and slide my way, glittering mischievously.

"I'm surprised she hasn't got you a stack of breeding requests to fill."

"And why is that, pup?"

She pokes my chest and explains, "You were off planet when the genophage was released, meaning _you don't have it._ You could successfully pup any fertile female sent your way."

I snort. "I'm a bit old for that. Besides, isn't your pup immune as well?"

"He is, and he does what he can for the clan, even if he's not exactly happy with it. I truly think he's emotionally attached to Anakra."

"That is her name?"

Shepard smiles. She knows too. Grunt's little female is named after a powerful wind goddess. No doubt her pups will be forces of nature. And if Grunt were the sire, well, it could be the start of a great bloodline.

Shepard's omnitool pings, and EDI comes over the line.

"Everything is prepared, Commander. Thane is returning to you until you are ready to leave, and Garrus has successfully returned to the ship and is nursing his headache in the battery."

"Thank you, EDI. Have Tali take him some water every now and then. Separate my reports and I'll get to them when I return. Ask Mordin if there is anything he wants before we leave. And inform Joker that he can't buy Fornax copies with my Cerberus funds."

"Yes, Commander. Logging you out."

I can't be sure, but it seems like the AI was a little smug at the end.

Shepard, Thane, and I spend the rest of the day helping clean up after the party. Mostly it involved cleaning leftover trash, but there had been a couple of instances where Shepard kicked awake a sleeping clan member and sent them to a shady spot to pass out again, and once a varren got loose. Thane was fastest, and had tackled the excited animal before Shepard recognized him.

Apparently, Urz adored Shepard, and the feeling was mutual. She spent a few minutes scratching the old boy until he had nearly melted into a puddle at her feet. After that he stayed at her heels. He is remarkably well trained.

Later, as twilight settles over the sands, I groan as I sit down on my new bed. It's been a long week. I rub my face tiredly and glace around my room one last time. Something catches my eye; it's a datapad, laying conspicuously by itself on my nightstand.

I turn on the screen. There are a few files saved on it, and nothing else. I open the first file.

It's a news report, dating maybe three years back. The headline makes my breath catch.

 **"Aralakh: Ancient Krogan Warrior"**

Beneath it is a smaller title: "First woman to join N7 program a year early"

Under _that_ , is a picture of Shepard, face solemn, but she wasn't fooling me. Those eyes twinkle with merriment and her chest is puffed up with pride. I quickly scan the article.

From what this says, N7 has a special offer. Normally, there's a year long waiting period before someone can leave N6 to join N7 training. The only way to skip it is to write a thesis paper that can prove you are able and serious enough to withstand the training.

Shepard was the first female to do so, and her thesis paper had been about _me._

I'm touched by the gesture, and I realize even after all this time, I still influence the universe, even in a small way. This no doubt meant the world to Shepard at the time.

I open the other two files. One was the thesis paper in question, the other a glowing commendation from a senior N7 member, someone by the name of Ryder. Seems like a hard ass of a guy, but he had nothing but praise for Shepard.

I stay up to read the paper, and once again that old part of me stirs, fights the bit I'd taken under Aria. Shepard was right, of course; I had spent too much time with asari, who were always bemoaning how they wanted to change the world but never did.

I want to be the Aralakh in Shepard's paper again.

And thanks to her, my krantt, my gift of rebellion, I have a chance to do so.

I smile to the empty room, and it bares all my teeth.

 **XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

 **This was fairly long, but I just didn't feel right separating it so it is what it is. There may be one more chapter, but I haven't decided if it's going in this story or a different one. Hugs and kisses!**


End file.
